The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq: In Nine Volumes Complete, with His Last Corrections, Additions, and Improvements, as They Were Delivered to the Editor a Little Before His Death, Together with the Commentary and Notes of Mr. Warburton, 4. köide
A. Millar, J. and R. Tonson, C. Bathurst, R. Baldwin, W. Johnston, J. Richardson, B. Law, S. Crowder, T. Longman, T. Field, and T. Caslon, 1760
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admire Alluding appears Author bear beauty becauſe beſt better called cauſe character common Court Critics divine eaſe eſt ev'ry eyes fall fame Father fear firſt fool force Friend gave genius give given grace grave half hand head heart himſelf honour imitation juſt keep King language laſt late laugh Laws learned leaſt leſs live Lord manner mean mind moral moſt muſt nature never NOTE obſerved once Original perſon pleaſe Poem Poet Poet's Poetry poor Pope praiſe preſent quae quid quod reaſon ridicule ſaid ſame Satire ſay ſee ſeems ſenſe ſhall ſhe ſhould ſome ſpirit ſtill ſuch taſte tell theſe thing thoſe thought true Truth turn uſe verſe Vice Virtue whole whoſe write
Page 11 - Friend to my life, (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song) What drop or nostrum can this plague remove? Or which must end me, a fool's wrath or love?
Page 30 - Who but must laugh if such a man there be ? Who would not weep if Atticus were he?
Page 12 - Three things another's modest wishes bound, My friendship, and a prologue, and ten pound. Pitholeon sends to me : ' You know his Grace, ' I want a patron ; ask him for a place.
Page 24 - Pretty! in amber to observe the forms Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms! The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil they got there.
Page 272 - If of Court life you knew the good. You would leave loneness. ' I said, 'Not alone My loneness is; but Spartan's fashion, To teach by painting drunkards, doth not last Now; Aretine's pictures have made few chaste; No more can princes...
Page 211 - This subtle Thief of life, this paltry Time, What will it leave me, if it snatch my rhyme? If ev'ry wheel of that unweary'd Mill, That turn'd ten thousand verses, now stands still?
Page 39 - As shallow streams run dimpling all the way. Whether in florid impotence he speaks, And, as the prompter breathes, the puppet squeaks; Or, at the ear of Eve, familiar toad, Half froth, half venom, spits himself abroad...
Page 14 - The truth once told (and wherefore should we lie?) The Queen of Midas slept, and so may I. You think this cruel ? take it for a rule, No creature smarts so little as a fool. Let peals of laughter, Codrus ! round thee break, 85 Thou unconcern'd canst hear the mighty crack: Pit, box, and gall'ry in convulsions hurl'd, Thou stand'st unshook amidst a bursting world. Who shames a Scribbler? break one cobweb thro...